


When You're in My Arms

by WinterSnow10



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cuddles, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Laurent/Hugo, Olivier's antics, Sharing Clothes, Thank you Eafay70, netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9440939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSnow10/pseuds/WinterSnow10
Summary: Antoine is rough on himself after a loss, Oliver is there to be the big blanket of support that he is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/gifts), [Deiv17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiv17/gifts).



> To my Beta, eafay70 and friend Deiv17, you are two brilliant minds.

How had Sweden gotten the better of them? How was it possible, when they had beaten them the last time? All of those chances that Antoine had missed, the penalty…The two goals that Hugo had let in couldn’t be stopped. Yet Antoine still blamed himself. He trudged off the pitch, walking down the tunnel and into the changing room. After he got out of the shower and dressed himself, he sat down on the bench. He was compartmentalising everything, but that crumbled the second that Olivier tugged him to his chest; Antoine had never handled loss well.

“Let’s get you back the hotel.” Oliver smiled as he rubbed a hand through Antoine’s flouncy hair.

The younger man didn’t let go of Olivier’s hand until they got onto the bus. Even then, he only took his hand away to get comfy, resting his head on Olivier’s chest.

“Va dormir mon roi,” Olivier whispered before he kissed the younger man’s hair.

Oli woke him up a few minutes before the bus parked outside of the hotel. Antoine rubbed the sleep from his eyes; he was still a bit drowsy.

“Come on, we’re going to the hotel room,” Oli grinned as he got of off the bus.

They walked to the room in silence. Oli swiped the key, and the two of them dropped their bags by the door.

“Why don’t you go get a shower?” Olivier wondered before he kissed Antoine.

The younger man nodded and headed to the bathroom, taking a fresh set of Olivier’s clothes, much to the older man’s chagrin.

To Traitor: Hugo, could you do me a favour?

From Traitor: It depends, what do you want? Me and Laur are really tired.

To Traitor: Can you get me some cream? Please, it’s for the baby.

From Traitor: Fine, give us a few minutes.

To Traitor: Thank you.

“You realise he still has your name as Traitor right?” Laurent grinned.

“Just because I caught that one shot, I’d be the laughing stock if I didn’t catch it,” Hugo complained as they headed out the door.

Olivier was waiting at the door. He took the bowl thankfully.

“Change my name on your phone,” Hugo demanded.

“What do you want me to put? Captain that’s fucking the other captain?” Olivier laughed.

“Idiot,” Hugo groaned before he turned on his heel.

Antoine walked out of the shower, the older man’s clothes swimming on him. Olivier was lying in the bed, two mugs of hot chocolate beside him; he patted the bed. Antoine slid in beside him and took one of the mugs.

“Where did you get the cream?” Antoine mumbled.

“I have my people,” Olivier ginned as he pulled the laptop between them.

All throughout the movie, Antoine didn’t really speak; this loss must have really hurt him.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Oliver smiled.

“Nothing to talk about,” Antoine groaned.

“We all messed up, it isn’t your fault,” Olivier promised as he pecked the side of his forehead.

“But I missed the penalty, I messed up…all of the shots we could have had…” Antoine mumbled.

“You need to stop blaming yourself, Grizi; none of us preformed well, but it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“I’m not going to win this one, am I?” Antoine frowned as he shuffled closer to Oli.

“Nope. Try and get some rest.”

Antoine kissed Olivier before putting his head on the older man’s chest and closing his eyes. Oli’s fingers worked their way through the soft hair, lulling Antoine into a soft sleep.

“Mon roi.” Olivier kissed his forehead.


End file.
